


A Different Kind Of Freedom

by Kyrene3



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyrene3/pseuds/Kyrene3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows exactly what Rory needs. She needs someone who will be there when she wants it. Someone to scratch an itch. While he’s probably always going to be a little in love with her, he knows he can live with that. For once, Jess is absolutely, without any doubt, positive he can give her what she needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind Of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my darling beta Sobriquett for looking this over like three times.
> 
> I am super vague when it comes to Rory's job, bear with me.

Jess has always been good at sex. Ever since Nancy from the record store (no last name, just “my boyfriend won’t be home this weekend”) took him to her apartment to show him a thing or two.

He’s always been a quick study and practice makes perfect.

When most kids were getting first kisses and hoping to cop a feel, Jess was already way ahead of the class.

“You were made for this, Jess,” he was told once. Years later he still doesn’t know what to do with that.

He only tried for a relationship once and, ironically, no sex was had. Good, virginal, Rory Gilmore, who would kiss and kiss and, sometimes, she allowed his fingers, giving in to the tension that was a constant blanket around them. But with her there was always more than sex. There were books and music and genuine discussion. His mind craved her as much as, perhaps more than, his body did.

His first love… his only love.

Although that’s not saying much at this point in his life. Jess has always been at his most self-destructive while attempting to maintain an active social life. He no longer needs that. Jess has always enjoyed his solitude, just himself and the words he reads or writes down, the beginnings of another book. He sees Chris and Matt outside of work occasionally, sometimes their friends will join them, but generally his life is quiet. Simple.

And while Jess is good at sex, he’s found he doesn’t need to seek it out the way he used to. He’s no longer searching for intimacy, affection, to feel something as he once was. He’s no longer looking for a distraction. Occasionally someone will spend the night, but they’re generally friends who also want to fuck.

Jess never thought Rory Gilmore would be one of them.

He remembers the moment, back when he was a stupid eighteen-year-old, just kicked out of high school, that he knew he’d messed things up with Rory. That moment when she’d wanted to comfort him, not knowing why he was hurting; when he knew he was so wrong for her, that he would ruin her… When the only thing he could think of was making her feel good by sharing the one thing he was good at.

He feels like that eighteen-year-old now.

Jess has seen her at a holiday or two. They discussed her work, Truncheon, but were generally there for family. He did his best to tell her that it was okay without saying it, that he wouldn’t hold her leaving, in love with another man, against her. She seemed to get the idea, and they were something approaching friends again. When her tour bus brought her through Philadelphia, they would meet up for lunch or dinner, Chris and Matt joining them occasionally.

He wanted her in his life however he could have her. That’s not to say he’s still hoping for a romantic relationship; that ship has sailed. He’d jumped the gun one too many times and then ran instead of sticking around to witness the aftermath.

As melodramatic as it sounds, the last time they kissed it seemed to him that he would always be the other guy in her eyes – the one to flirt with, the one to kiss, the one she ran to when the boyfriend wasn’t who she wanted him to be.

So he opens his door wide for her when she appears, looking for a friend. He gets them takeout, puts on a bad movie. He listens as she tells him how lonely she is, how hard it is to keep relationships.

She won’t say it, won’t ask. She may not even know it, but he does. He knows exactly what she needs.

She needs someone who will be there when she wants it. Someone to scratch an itch. Someone to give her intimacy, affection, to help her feel something. She doesn’t need strings right now, but Rory is not a woman who has one night stands, who will throw herself into sex with a stranger. She needs a friend she can trust.

And okay, he can do that. He’s single, stable, and while he’s probably always going to be a little in love with her, he knows he can live with that. For once, Jess is absolutely, without any doubt, positive he can give her what she needs.

(He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it in the past few years; that he hadn’t hoped. Chemistry like theirs doesn’t happen every day)

So he catches her off-guard, kisses her as he’s done countless times before. But this time they aren’t teenagers. She isn’t the Virginal Rory of before. He isn’t tainting something pure when he touches her breast. He isn’t touching some forbidden treasure when he touches her and makes her come for the first time in almost ten years.

This time she lets him kiss her everywhere and she tastes better than he could have ever imagined. He goes down on her right there on his couch, her taste seared forever in his mind.

Jess shows her everything he’s learnt throughout the years. And he almost manages to do it without thinking about love or loss.

Almost. That first moment when he presses inside her, when they’re pressed together, skin to skin, their lips touching in the lightest of kisses, he thinks that this could be it. That he could never touch another again and it would be just fine with him.

He allows it for a moment before shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind, concentrates on the act instead: finds the rhythm that makes her squeeze her eyes shut, her nails digging into his skin, figuring out the spots that make her squirm, pressing his fingers into the areas that make her scream.

He feels like he’s auditioning. _This is what I can give you. This is how I can make you feel._ (He wants her to want more. He wants to be the best she’s ever had.)

The hope was that she would be so tired out, she would fall asleep before the panic sets in. Wishful thinking.

He lies calmly as she jumps up, frantic.

“Rory,” he says; cool, calm, casual.

She looks back at him, standing on shaky legs, holding her shirt in front of her like a shield.

He doesn’t get up, doesn’t change positions, remains lying in his bed, lazily watching her. “If you want to go back to your hotel, I won’t stop you. But don’t think you have to. We just had some amazing sex, I’d like to have more. If you want that too, come back to bed.”

He’s not entirely sure it will work. Rory has always fought hard against this thing between them.

She must see something in his expression that relaxes her, because without a word she drops her shirt and climbs back into bed. When she lays back down she turns towards him, hesitant. “…do we… cuddle?”

He chuckles. “I’m not opposed to it. You’re naked, I’m naked, what’s not to like?”

She giggles, pressing herself close to him and falling asleep.

Later in the night they wake up for lazy, slow sex, and he concentrates less, goes with the flow, and it’s still amazing. In the morning he makes her breakfast before propping her up on his counter and sinking inside of her for what may be the last time.

“I’ll see you when you’re back in town,” he says as she leaves, just like always.

She smiles, kisses his cheek. “See you then.”

\--

She doesn’t tell her mother.

For most mothers and daughters that wouldn’t be too much of a surprise, but Rory has tried not to keep anything from her mother since their big fight when she dropped out of Yale. Hell, Rory had a one night stand while on the tour bus and Lorelai was the first person she called in a panic after it happened.

But things are always different with Jess. He has always been her secret to keep. It seems that hasn’t changed.

Not that her mother doesn’t know that they visit with each other sometimes. According to their family and friends, Rory Gilmore and Jess Mariano have crossed that line from awkward exes to friends. Lorelai Gilmore has finally let go of any flame of suspicion she had and Rory doesn’t want to ignite it again.

The next time Rory sees him, she’s scared: scared that everything will change, that things will suddenly be awkward. She’s scared that he’ll want something she can’t give (what a change that would be), that he’ll only want sex from her… that he won’t want it again. (Because she does want to – that she knows. The things he did to her, the way he made her feel… She never thought it could be like that.)

Her job has her in Philadelphia a few times a year. Trying to avoid him on his turf would be easy but she doesn’t want to. With or without sex, beginning their friendship again has been a very bright part of her life.

It turns out she doesn’t have to worry.

The next time she’s in Philadelphia she can’t see Jess until late. When she calls, he asks her to meet him at Truncheon and she arrives at the end of an open house. Having missed her last time she was in town, Matt and Chris are excited to see her, and she quickly finds herself at a pub, her suitcase stashed under a table.

It’s easy with them, always has been. They tell her stories about the pain-in-the-ass authors they have to deal with, making jabs at Jess throughout. She tells them stories about the politicians she meets: some of them nice, but mostly embarrassing stories. Jess stretches his arm behind her chair, casual, easy, and she tries to stop herself from over-analyzing his actions.

Once the awkwardness of their friendship had lifted he’d always been comfortable around her. She wonders if the sex will only add another level of comfort.

They end up out later than she initially planned and she curses herself for not booking her hotel in advance for once.

“Just come back to my place; we can walk, save some money.”

Rory stops. She wonders if maybe she’s missed something, if she should have analyzed his actions more. She’s petrified of hurting him again.  
Jess smirks. “Don’t overthink it, Gilmore.”

And it can’t possibly be that simple. Not with them, not with anyone.

But he’s standing there with that crooked smile on his face, one that promises mischief and pleasure if only she would follow him. When they were seventeen she was too afraid to allow him to make good on his promises. Months ago he delivered; she decides that there’s no way she’ll miss out on it again.

She rides him hard that night, admiring the way his muscles strain, the face he makes as he comes. Rory runs her hands along his lean chest, digging her fingers into his skin.  
When they were young, before it all went downhill, he never pushed her, only ever gave when she allowed it. She’d touched him once but felt too strange, nervous that someone would walk in. He’d only sighed that day, pulling her hand away from him, kissing her softly.

It would be a lie to say that she never regrets it. Next time, she tells herself; next time she’ll enjoy him fully and slowly.

They don’t fall asleep as quickly this time, both still wired from their day. They talk about the books they’ve been reading, albums they’ve bought. She shares some of Lane’s recommendations and promises to bring the new Hemp Alien album the next time they see each other.

She rolls over when it’s time to sleep and smiles as he pulls her up against his chest. She’s missed sleeping with someone, skin-to-skin, snuggled up against warm, strong arms. _Don’t get used to it. You don’t know what this is. You can’t keep it._

She sleeps in the next day and it’s closer to the afternoon when she wakes up. Coffee is waiting for her, pancakes waiting in the microwave. Jess is sitting at his laptop, a serious expression on his face as he types.

He gives her distracted answers when she asks about the new book, and she enjoys watching him completely captivated by his art as she eats.

“Jess, I have to get going,” she tells him an hour later. She laughs at his surprised expression when he finally looks up from his laptop for the first time that day.

“Sorry, I get…” He scratches his head and she loves seeing him flustered for the first time since high school. Even then it wasn’t a regular occurrence.

She nods. “I understand. I can get the same way.”

In fact, it’s a breath of fresh air, seeing someone else become so distracted with their work.

She goes to him this time, knowing how much she would hate being separated from her laptop when she’s on a roll.

“I’ll see you when you’re back in town.” His customary goodbye - and she likes it, this lack of pressure.

Rory leans down and gives him a soft kiss on the mouth which he returns. “See you then.”

When Rory returns to work it’s with a light heart. She feels good. There is no boyfriend to worry about neglecting, to make her feel like her priorities are wrong. She and Jess will occasionally text but generally work is work. If Rory’s attention isn’t there it’s with her mother.

Maybe, one day, she’ll be ready for that kind of commitment again, but right now it’s just a nuisance.

And she’s content with it. They see each other again, and they go out to eat. He pays like he always has and the food is good. The sex is good. Not paying for a hotel is good. Being with him is always good.

Everything is good.

Until she’s asked on a date. And she doesn’t actually want to go. She would have said no either way.

But it gets her thinking.

\--

Lucy Anderson comes to town and he’s finally forced to consider some things he’d chosen to ignore.

While Jess lived a generally solitary life, he still had friends who showed up occasionally. He’d actually met Lucy at a concert – a flight attendant with a wandering heart much like his own. She would come through occasionally, sometimes calling him, sometimes not. When she did she always stayed the night.

He knows Rory – knows her better than anyone, knows her better than he did when he said it the first time if that’s possible. He knows that there is a possibility she may be turning down others for his sake.

A part of him has no desire to sleep with anyone else either. He’s happy, satisfied, and sees no reason for it. But this is meant to be about making life easier for Rory, and he doesn’t want to hold her back.

He turns Lucy down and wonders if he’ll hear from her again. He won’t be heartbroken if he doesn’t, but he would be disappointed. Sex or no, she’s an avid traveler; conversation with her is always stimulating.

The next time Rory comes around it’s for three days, longer than usual. She arrives at his apartment on his day off, bags in tow. “I didn’t want to assume, but…”

He grins. “It’s safe to assume.”

She’s still hesitant as she puts her stuff down. Fidgeting with the sleeves of her coat, she won’t meet his eyes. He wonders who asked her out. He knows she didn’t go and he fights between smug satisfaction and guilt.

“Jess…” she begins, and he remains quiet, allowing her to say her piece. “I don’t want a boyfriend right now.”

He waits, sure there must be more, but she remains quiet, biting her lip. He contemplates biting it for her and putting off the conversation a little longer.

Instead he sighs, lets her off the hook. “I think that’s smart. You’re pretty busy; boyfriend would probably get in the way right now.”

She’s frustrated with his response but he can’t give her the answers on this one. Whether she knows it or not, this is her show.

“So we’re… what? Friends with benefits? I’ve done that before, Jess; it didn’t work out.”

That’s slightly surprising to hear. He’d wager whoever it was became a boyfriend not too long after. His money’s on the Dick from Yale and he goes with it. “So, in recent years, with the job you have right now, with someone in one specific state, who you can see when you want, you’ve tried before?”

She’s back to fidgeting with the sleeves of her coat again, the ends fraying beneath her fingers. “…Well, no. It was at Yale.”

Blonde Dick it is. “Where you were living on the same campus, probably saw each other all the time, maybe even were dating each other’s friends.”

She blushes and he knows he got it in one.

“Rory, I’m not saying this is perfect. I am saying the distance helps when it comes to a lot of the potential issues. You want to go on a date? Go on a date. You want to sleep with someone else? Do what you have to do.” It hurts to say, but it still needs to be said.

It’s clear that it distresses her too. Rory’s always had a jealous streak. “But… I don’t always warn you when I come. What if you’re… _busy_?”

He rolls his eyes. “You largely overestimate my social life. I got a lot of that out of my system a long time ago.”

She’s breaking and he smiles to himself as she walks away from her bag and finally takes her jacket off. “So… what? I’ll be sleeping around while you wait patiently for me to visit?”

He snorts at the notion that she would sleep around. She could; she’s beautiful, she has a job that would support such a lifestyle. But Rory is a woman who likes having a boyfriend, a boyfriend that would simply be an annoyance for her at the moment. He’s offering her the illusion. Happily. Willingly.

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing. You do what you want. But I can promise you that whenever you come to town, as long as you want to, you can have my bed. Preferably with me in it.”

They stand quietly, watching each other. In an instant a decision is made and she takes a step forward, kissing him hard on the mouth.

\--

Rory spends her three days with him and is the happiest she’s been in years.

Between her own meetings she spends time at Truncheon making phone calls, organizing books (buying books), editing, and during a few busy hours helping man the store. Rory and Jess don’t act any differently around his friends; Rory wants to keep this thing between them. It’s better that way. Uncomplicated.

She becomes comfortable though. After college, before the sex began, she’d always been slightly hesitant around him, fearful of the chemistry between them. This physical connection, this raw sexual attraction that always seemed to vibrate throughout her body when she’s with him, begging for the two of them to act. Then, after the sex began, before they discussed it, she was worried about giving him the wrong idea.

It’s impossible _not_ to touch him now.

She pauses a movie and climbs onto his lap. When they hit play again they’re naked and under a throw he keeps on the couch.

She strokes his shoulder as she walks by him, grabs his hand. She comes home from work and kisses him sweetly on the lips before walking away to order takeout. Rory plays with the boundaries of intimacy and romance, sure there must be rules. In three days, she finds none.

Returning to work is easy. It consumes every aspect of her life for months on end leaving no room for anything else. She misses Thanksgiving and Christmas at home and there still seems to be no end in sight to her work. It feels like forever before she finds herself in Philadelphia again.

“Take me out,” she tells him. “Pick somewhere nice, make a reservation. I want to dress up and go out.”

She’s daring in her exhaustion and need to be wined and dined.

“Things were a lot easier when the only thing you wanted was Philly cheese steak,” he says, fixing the collar of his dress shirt, fitting his blazer to his chest. And, oh, he looks good. So, so good. She almost regrets her initial plans. Almost.

Smoothing down her dress, a little black number that hugs her curves in just the right places, she enjoys the freedom of dressing up for something other than work. She slides on her shoes before sauntering up to him and grabbing on to his blazer. “But it is nice sometimes – to dress up, go out, show off…”

He rolls his eyes.

“There’s also something to be said about—” Rory presses even closer, her lips next to his ear. “—anticipation…”

He narrows his eyes, smiles.

They go out for Mediterranean. It’s a nice restaurant, her dress isn’t out of place but she spies a few people in casualwear as well. It’s perfect.

It’s fun in a way she’s never enjoyed with Jess: drinks, appetizer, dinner, dessert, playful banter over the table, inappropriate touching with hands and feet underneath.

By the time the check comes she’s imagining dragging him to a bathroom.

By the time they get to the car she can barely keep her hands off of him. She mouths at his beard, bites at his ear before forcing herself back in her seat while he starts the car. His hand strokes her thigh and he presses down on the gas when he discovers her lack of panties.

They barely make it into the apartment, throwing their jackets to the ground, high off the urgency and lust between them. He lifts her up and she wraps her legs tightly around his hips, the wall cool against her skin. She grabs at his shoulders, his arms, hastily pulling at the buttons on his shirt, kissing and licking at the skin she can reach. His hands move away from her for a moment and she doesn’t register what he’s doing until suddenly he’s so close and he’s pushing deep, deep, deep. As he moves inside her, Rory wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, her hand gripping his hair.

It’s intense. It’s always intense with Jess. Exciting and maybe a little frightening but always bringing her back for more. When her feet are back on the ground and they separate, he holds her face in his hands and kisses her deeply. Later, they lie in bed and read their books, occasionally quoting a fragment or discussing a plot point or character.

It’s probably the best date she’s ever had.

(The next time she sees him he takes her to a punk concert and it’s like the old days, except for all the ways that it’s not. She dances against him, hot, sweaty, high off the music and his body against hers. They don’t make it to the apartment. He takes her in his car, right there in the parking lot.)

\--

He hears from her more often now: emails, texts and the occasional phone call. They talk about everything – books and music, her work, Truncheon, family, his book. He knows more about her life now than he ever has and it’s nice. Very nice.

While still subtle around friends and family (no sex during holidays) when they’re alone he may as well be her boyfriend. He’s not surprised. It was the point. Rory needs more than just sex; it’s why she hadn’t found someone else, why this has worked for so long.

They’re practically in a relationship.

He hasn’t touched another since they began.

He gave her a key not too long ago, along with a logical reason so she wouldn’t overthink the gesture. “This way you can drop off your stuff if I’m at work, since you never seem to let me pick you up.”

Which is true. Rory still drops by fairly last-minute and never lets him pick her up. He’s managed to drop her off a few times but only if he found a reason for the airport or train to be on his way.

She hasn’t needed to use the key yet – mostly from lack of presence.

It’s been seven months since the last time he saw her, the longest he can remember since they started. And he’s okay. He’s fine. This was always going to be part of the arrangement. The entire point is that he can handle it.

He can. He _can_ handle it.

He’d just underestimated how hard it would be, to actually have her in his life, in his bed, to be with her, inside of her, and know that one day he’ll likely have to let her go, _let her go, let her go_.

Nowadays, Jess is a casual drinker, usually when he’s with the guys. He’s careful. He’s always been a careful drinker except for when emotions were high and Jess just wanted to drown everything out. There were no more drugs in his life besides the occasional joint passed around after parties with Matt and Chris and whoever else has stuck around.  
Cigarettes are usually his drug of choice. Sometimes when he’s writing he’ll go through two packs, forgetting to eat, drink, or sleep until he’s done.

That night, he’s weak. That night, he’s lost in his head and he can’t escape it. He doesn’t want to leave the apartment and he can’t seem to find the words to write. It’s happened before, it’ll happen again, because sometimes he’s overwhelmed and there’s just _too much_.

He grabs the bottle of whiskey left in his cabinet and he drinks and he smokes and tries to numb the feeling like he’s that goddamn nineteen-year-old again begging the girl to run away with him.

“Jess?”

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes up to the sound of her voice. He blinks, rubs his eyes.

“Rory?”

She takes off her jacket, strips down to her underwear and throws on one of his shirts before climbing in bed with him.

And Jess _must_ be dreaming, because what are the odds? For her to just appear, right when he’s at his lowest. He doesn’t know if this is a blessing or the universe’s way of saying “fuck you!” because he can’t turn her away. Not now. Not when he needs her this much.

She moves closer, worry etched in her expression before she calls his name again, softer this time.

What are the odds? That the woman he’d searched for so many times when he was young ( _you aren’t eighteen any more_ ), going through inadequate replacement after replacement, would be here now?

He takes her entirely by surprise when he grabs her shoulders and shoves her down, climbing on top of her. She goes to kiss his lips and he gives her his cheek instead, mindful of his breath. ( _Cigarettes and booze, how can you put this on her_?)

He touches her under his shirt, bunching it up above her breasts, drinking her in, drunk off her body, before thrusting hard and fast and deep. Her hands are stroking his shoulders, his hair, and he can’t help but whisper, “Rory, Rory,” because for all the times he’s done this, lost himself in the body of another when he needed to forget, this is the first time it’s _her_.

They finish together, something which shocks him because he hadn’t been thinking too much of pleasure, hers or his, just necessary release. Jess doesn’t climb off her right away, instead he holds her close, his face hidden in her neck as he feels himself softening inside of her.

“Are you okay?” she asks, stroking his back under his shirt.

He nods. “I’m sorry… Sometimes I—”

“No, no, I came out of the blue. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

He rolls off her, running his hand through his hair. He needs a glass of water, needs to take off his sweaty shirt. He needs sleep.

Jess turns his head and Rory is staring at him with concerned blue eyes.

He smiles. “I’m glad you came.”

That night, after they both strip and find water, he holds her tightly, tighter than he’s probably ever let himself before, and hopes she doesn’t notice. (He knows she does.)

In the morning she wakes him early, mouth hot and wet around him. He returns the favor, hoping it serves as an adequate apology for falling apart inside her the night before.  
They’re on their way to the shower when she tells him that she has to leave soon – “this trip wasn’t exactly planned” – and he can’t believe what a fucking mess he was, wasting the time they had.

He tries to make the apology in the shower extra special. From the sounds she makes he thinks he accomplishes it.

Rory lets him drive her to the train that day and he’s surprised to find that she’s heading back to Washington so soon and not some other random state or country. He’s parked in front and when he looks towards her she’s nervous. He waits.

“So… you know how I have that contact here? Of course you do, it’s why I’m usually here. Well, he… moved. To Washington, actually, which is funny, because he was always saying how he was going to but he never did but now… well. he… did. So, well, the thing is… I probably won’t be around as often any more, Jess.”

That explained her absence the last few months. He inhales deeply, wishing for a cigarette. “Well, I’ll see you when I can.”

She nods. And it’s awkward. It feels like a break up. As if they hadn’t had enough of those. What was he thinking? She hesitates for a moment.

“Are you going to be okay?”

And there it is.

He smiles. “I’m a writer, Ror. A night of booze, sex, and general over-dramatics comes with the territory.”

\--

Rory starts to think about fate when the plane sending her back to Washington from NY takes her to Philadelphia in preparation for the blizzard that’s practically upon them. Because what are the odds that her job sent her by plane instead of having her drive or take the train? What are the odds that the plane would take its chances because it’s such a short flight? What are the odds that they would land in Philadelphia? (Where she so desperately wants to be.)

She whips out her phone along with her fellow passengers and calls Jess.

“I’m sorry, this is so last minute, but the plane made an emergency landing in Philadelphia, and I know there’s a blizzard outside, and I promise I can find a hotel—“

“Rory, shut up. I’ll be there soon.”

Of course he would. The Jess she knows now has never disappointed her.

She doesn’t have to wait outside for too long, but while she’s waiting she considers the last time she was here, not too long ago: when Jess had fallen apart, truly and completely, in front of her for the first time in their shared history; when she had taken a completely spontaneous trip to see him, reminiscent of New York, years ago. Timing, fate, that she should appear when he needed her most.

The trip to his apartment takes a little longer than normal but Jess is confident. “I’ve had to drive in worse conditions with a much crappier car.”

By the time they arrive the storm is really picking up. Jess goes to get dinner ready before any kind of power outage may occur and Rory checks his bathroom cabinets, thankful to find the sanitary napkins she left there last time her period surprised her.

Next Rory goes looking for candles in case the lights go out, pulling out some blankets as well, a plan forming in her mind. “Maybe after you’re done we can turn off all the lights, light up some candles, open the blinds and watch the snow.”

He smirks at her, stirring the sauce in front of him. She’s excited; Jess is a great cook. His tomato sauce is the best she’s ever had next to Luke’s.

“Did Luke teach you how to cook?” she asks, walking to the counter to make some coffee. It’s something she’s wondered since the first time he cooked for her.

He pauses for a moment. Jess never gives anything of himself lightly. “Yeah, a lot of it came from working at the diner. There were also a few nights when I actually stayed in and Luke would show me a thing or two.”

Rory tries to imagine it and fails. Back then it seemed like Jess didn’t show an interest in much of anything. She can’t imagine him standing and letting Luke teach him how to cook.

“There sounds like there’s more to that story…” she prompts.

He laughs, scooping out some of the sauce and tasting it, letting her do the same. She never has much of an opinion, her knowledge of the kitchen still limited, but he always seems to know what it needs.

“There was this lady next door to us, Mrs. Rossi. When I was about seven or eight she would watch me sometimes when Liz was doing whatever Liz would do. She was probably the closest I had to the stereotypical Italian grandma; thought I needed some cooking skills to go with my last name.”

Rory thinks of Mia, although most of the things Rory was taught then had to do with hotel management.

“We moved away when I was nine. I’m not entirely sure whatever happened to her… But the cooking came in handy.” He starts moving around, straining the penne, grabbing plates. She pours herself a cup of coffee. “The snow seems to be really picking up out there, it’s getting dark… I’m all for your plan if we can be naked.”

She blushes, still uncomfortable discussing this no matter how comfortable he’s made it clear he is. “How about we keep the underwear tonight?”

He nods, understanding. He tried to convince her once that sex during her period wasn’t a problem for him but she assured him that she was grossed out enough for the both of them.

They light the candles and set up the apartment before stripping down to their underwear and cuddling under his blankets with their dishes.

“So, why did you say the cooking came in handy? Do you mean at the diner?”

He groans. “What’s with all the questions tonight?”

“We’re going to be snowed in! Who knows how long for… We’ve known each other for so long at this point and there’s still so much we don’t know about each other.”

He watches her, narrowing his eyes and taking a bite. “Alright. Liz wasn’t exactly mother of the year, and she definitely didn’t cook. Using the money we had for groceries and cooking turned out to be cheaper than going out every night.”

They eat slowly, her food cold by the time she’s finished while they talk. They trade stories about their mothers’ attempts at cooking; most of Liz’s most famous cooking adventures are from recent years. Jess tells one or two from before, casually dropping little anecdotes to Liz’s “three-week venture into sobriety when I was twelve” or the first time Liz tried coke and “broke the stove, cleaned some weird shit, and then disappeared for a week.”

Rory has plenty of questions after that, and Jess answers each one of her questions with a kind of lazy, uninterested tone.

Yes, Liz disappeared often and he remembered rationing the food they had so it would last him as long as possible when she disappeared. Yes, Liz had hit him before, but not often. Yes, her boyfriends and husbands hit him too, up until he started hitting back. Yes, Liz technically had a reason to send him away when he’d been involved in a robbery. “Jeez, Rory, ask a fun question.”

They’re facing the window, watching the storm pass by. She’s leaning against his chest while he sits against the couch. She sips at her coffee, faintly wishing they’d been able to stop for wine. Granted, Jess doesn’t seem to need alcohol to loosen his lips at the moment (and after the last time, his breath stinking of whiskey, she’s not sure if she wants that right now.)

Her chest feels heavy.

“Alright, the obvious question… how old were you when you lost your virginity?” she asks, and for a brief, horrifying moment she thinks of the casual way he talks of his abuse at the hands of his mother and her boyfriends and wonders if maybe this is a question she shouldn’t have asked.

When he laughs in response she relaxes. “Now we’re talking. I was fourteen.”

“Oh. Older than I thought actually.”

“Huh. Wasn’t my first sexual experience, but the actual intercourse… fourteen. You?”

“Nineteen,” she responds, dreading the questions that are coming. Jess already knew that she and Dean had given it a second try, but she’d never actually gone into the gritty details. She still hates talking about it.

He nods, “Right. Since we’re all so curious tonight, I assumed it was either Dean or that Logan guy. But I know Dean was married around the time of Liz’s wedding…”

“Ugh. He was. He was married when we had sex. It was so bad. I didn’t even know it was happening until he was pulling out the condom and then it just kind of happened… I was scared, it hurt, Mom was so disappointed and I was so horrible to her…”

He strokes her belly, soothing her cramps, and she’s surprised at how comfortable this conversation, this situation is. She tells him the rest of the story: running off to Europe, how angry she was with her mother, the guilt she tried not to allow herself to feel at the image of Lindsay trying to make her husband happy with one perfect meal – then what came later, when the guilt consumed her and she tried again with Dean because it felt like she _had_ to after all the strife she had caused.

“Wow. Maybe you _should_ have run away with me.”

She’s shocked for a moment because they’d actually discussed this before, years ago when he told her what a mistake that would have been. How broke he was, what a bad place they both had been in, what a disaster it would have been. And he’s saying that would have been better? _Wait a minute_.

“Hey!” She turns around to smack him when she sees that he’s clearly trying to hold in laughter.

For a little while they forget about questions, wrestling and tickling, rolling around the floor. This quickly becomes a make-out session that could rival the ones when they were teenagers.

When they pull away from each other to finally breathe he’s lying with his back on the floor and she rests her cheek against his chest. She huffs, smiling, “How are you so good at that?”

“Good at what?” he responds sleepily.

It’s getting late. The blizzard is still raging and she considers suggesting they move to his bedroom. But it’s nice here in their little cocoon, and Jess is always so warm…

“The kissing. You’ve always been such a good kisser. And the sex…”

“Always been good at that too. Practice makes perfect,” he replies nonchalantly, and if she wasn’t so tired she’d probably hit him again.

“We met when you were seventeen, how much practice could you _possibly_ have—”

“Nope.” He’s lazily stroking her back as he continues to talk softly. “Definitely not having that conversation.”

And it’s strange, the way the mind works. She knows the conversation that he thinks will follow. It’s one about sexual history and how many partners he’s had, but Rory doesn’t really care about that all that much. No, instead her mind goes somewhere else.

“Jess?”

And he grunts in response, his eyes closed, but she knows he’s listening.

“In the bedroom… at Kyle’s party…”

She feels him tense before he’s opening his eyes and looking at her. He licks his lips and for a strange moment she wants to kiss him and forget that she’d even brought it up. Somehow, when she thinks about the party years later, that night seems so much more profound than it had at the time.

She cuts him off before he can start. “I know we already spoke about it. Bad timing, you were emotional, and—”

“I wanted to make you feel good. It seemed like all I was doing was hurting you, disappointing you. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t know how to stop. I mean it when I say sex is always something I’ve been good at. Until I started to write, it seemed like the only thing I was good at. It was the only thing I could think of. The _only_ thing I could offer you.”

He looks ready to apologize again but she’s tired of apologies from their broken relationship of ten years ago. This time she does kiss him and he returns it as passionately as always.

“I thought it was going to be you. Prom night, or at some point before I left for Europe. I’d even spoken to my mom about it.” She doesn’t know what makes her blurt it out, but it seems important to say.

He doesn’t seem all that surprised. Just sleepily shrugs. “Figures. Probably better we didn’t though. I was leaving no matter what… wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

She nods and rests her head on his chest, smiling. “You probably would have ruined me for other men.”

She’s met with silence. Rory tries not to think too much about what she just said, or may have admitted.

They fall asleep not too long after. The electricity never actually goes out even though the snow continues well into the next day. They sleep, eat, read, and she’s delighted to find that Jess volunteers more information about his past over this visit than he ever has before. How had they gone all these years without knowing so many things about each other?

The next day, Jess offers to drive her to Washington so she doesn’t have to worry about public transportation after the storm. The roads are generally clear and it’s just a two hour drive ( _just two hours, that’s hardly anything_ ) so she agrees.

On the ride there, he tells her about his book. “Just a few edits and it should be done.”

She laments the fact that she won’t have time to help with the edits but he promises to email her a copy she can read if she really wanted it before its publication.  
It’s simple, easy. Just like it’s been for years.

When she gets home, she considers the whole trip, the trip that wasn’t even supposed to happen. And for the first time, she really thinks about Jess and the arrangement they have.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” he’d said. Sex was “the only thing I could offer you.”

Did he still feel that way? For the past three years he’d given, unselfishly. Whenever she wanted she could drop into his life and he would be whoever she wanted him to be: the friend, the boyfriend, the lover.

Rory looks around her empty studio apartment. She misses him already.

She takes a deep breath but the heaviness in her chest doesn’t go away.

\--

They remain in touch. After the third time a conversation becomes phone sex, it’s clear that Jess isn’t the only one having trouble letting go. (They both end up in Stars Hollow during Christmas and he sneaks into her room at night, breaking their holiday rule.)

It isn’t only him that’s seeing it either. After almost four years of this arrangement, the people in Jess’ life are finally catching on.

Luke drops by one weekend. He tries to be casual but Luke isn’t ever the kind to open up, so when he starts telling Jess about his ex-girlfriend Rachel, it’s clear that Luke has an inkling of what’s going on.

And Jess gets it. He understands how it must look. He even appreciates the concern. But as similar as they may be, Jess is not his uncle. Hell, if Jess had been Luke, he probably would have left with Rachel. Either way, Jess isn’t waiting. If he had any real desire to be with anyone else, he would be. And when Rory finally moves on (because she will, she always does), he’ll continue to live his life.

When she calls him and invites him to D.C. with her for the first time he doesn’t overthink or hope.

“There’s a party I need to go to, a work thing really, and I was thinking maybe you’d like to come? You don’t have to, I know parties aren’t really your thing, but I need a date and I haven’t seen you in a while so I thought it might be nice.”

She’s breaking their long-established holding pattern. He can hear the nervousness in her voice. He’s nervous too.

So he gets the girl in the apartment downstairs to trim his hair, grabs some of his work, packs his one suit, tells the guys that he’ll be back in a few days, and ignores the looks Chris and Matt give him.

Jess has never actually been to Rory’s apartment — never been to visit her anywhere other than Stars Hollow. He’s meant to be separate from this life; that’s the point.

He barely has enough time to walk through the door before she’s jumping him, lips on his, hands grabbing at the fly of his pants, pulling it down while dragging him to bed. It’s quick and it’s good because it’s _always_ good and, shit, it doesn’t make it any easier when she’s fucking addicting.

“Hi,” she says, rolling over.

“You always give the best greetings,” he replies, adjusting his pants and sitting up. He looks around the apartment for the first time. It’s a studio, a nice one — nicer than any he’s ever lived in. It’s also fairly barren. “You just move in?”

She blushes. “Actually, this is my fourth apartment since I moved here. I started off bigger but it seemed silly since I barely lived in them, so they just kept getting smaller. Made more sense to keep most of my stuff at Mom’s.”

He nods. Whenever he thought about Rory’s apartment he’d come up blank. Their roles are reversed now; Jess is the stable one living in one place, Rory the nomad traveling the world. A furnished apartment just doesn’t suit her lifestyle.

It’s already fairly late so they get takeout and find a movie on TV, eating, watching and laughing on Rory’s bed. She touches him often, pets his hair, scratches at his beard, kisses any area she touches. He imagines this happening more often, happening every night.

It’s strange, sleeping in a different bed, different from his apartment or the one he sleeps in at Stars Hollow. “Been a while since I’ve slept in a bed that wasn’t mine,” he says when they lay down to sleep.

There’s an awkward silence. “So you bring all the other ladies home with you? I hope you wash your sheets before you let me in them.”

It’s somehow a conversation they’ve avoided since this whole arrangement started. He knows from the few holidays they’ve gone to at the same time that Rory has dated off and on — “nothing serious,” she’d always say, avoiding his eyes every time.

“Nah, I save the good sheets for you.”

“Ugh, you only have like one pair.”

He kisses her head. “I know.”

Rory wakes him early, takes him for a quick coffee and pastry, and tries to make him play tourist. When he finds a bench for the third time to read, she finally gives up. She takes him to the Library of Congress instead where they get lost for hours until they need to rush home.

They need to navigate around each other as they get ready but they’re experts at it at this point. Usually, he can guess at what she’s thinking, but the smiles she shoots him as they get ready leave him unsure. He ignores any uneasiness and enjoys the attention instead, grabbing gel for the first time in a while; he’d generally given up on his hair after high school.

“I love how well you clean up,” she says, taking his tie out of his hand to do it for him.

“Can’t have them thinking I’m your kept man.” He rubs his jaw, smirking. “Although that would be fun.”

“Don’t get any ideas, mister. This is a good chance for you to network.”

He probably should have taken that comment more seriously. From the moment they arrive at the venue she’s introducing him — “This is my friend, Jess Mariano, he’s a writer. He and his partners own a publishing house, Truncheon Books.”

These moments are usually followed by questions — has he written anything they would have read, tell them more about Truncheon. Jess turns on the charm that’s necessary when you’re a business owner but in the end Rory sells it best. She apparently even carries cards for Truncheon in her purse — some people already recognize the name of the place as well as his books, some people he even recognizes. He makes a note to talk to Chris and Matt about paying her for promotions.

Rory touches him frequently, wraps her hand around his arm. It’s not his scene but he enjoys the looks he gets, enjoys feeling like she’s showing him off, someone she could be proud to be seen with.

It takes about two hours for the atmosphere to become suffocating. Rory is standing on the other side of the room, chatting with a group of politicians and reporters. He stands from their table, meeting her eyes and gesturing towards the back door with an unlit cigarette in his hand. She smiles back in understanding, her knowing blue eyes, bright as ever, sparkling back at him.

She’s turned back to the group while he’s still standing there like an idiot. Ten years since he met her and she’s still the most stunning creature he’s ever laid eyes on. He watches as she grips the attention of the little group. He watches everyone who passes her by, looks at her, and is distracted by her beauty and intelligence. He remembers telling Luke years before he had no idea why Rory had chosen him. He’s come a long way since then — made a real life for himself, no longer the hooligan turned dropout with no future — but sometimes, at moments like these, he still thinks _why me_?

Outside is a balcony, overlooking a garden that’s too dark to really see. Leaning against a railing, he lights up a cigarette, inhaling deeply and slowly relaxing, reaching for his book. People wander outside. Some of them beg him for a light, one or two beg a smoke. He behaves himself, showing pity and giving up his cigarettes to these people in this other part of Rory’s world. Some of them ask what he’s reading, or if he’s Rory Gilmore’s date, the writer. It’s a strange title but he willingly accepts it. He makes conversation, telling them about the new book he’s working on and is due to be released in a few weeks.

Jess doesn’t know how long he’s been standing out there, smoking, reading, conversing, when Rory comes looking for him. “Time to go!” she says.

“I’m good if you need to stay,” he replies, unsure of what the usual routine is, if the party is actually over or if she’s leaving early for his sake.

She grins back and for the first time he gets the distinct feeling that he just passed a test.

“Nope. I got plenty of material; anything else is for the gossip rags. Also, I’m starving.”

He laughs, not surprised. The food was good but hours ago, and definitely not enough to fill up a Gilmore.

She’s shoveling food in her face when she asks about the book he’s reading, and they discuss it while they eat. Rory used to say that he helped her thought process, and while he wouldn’t admit it for a long time, she does the same for him. He’d already planned on dedicating this book to her; with her to bounce ideas off, the writing process was the smoothest it’s ever been.

“Did you at least enjoy yourself a little bit?” she asks, biting her lip.

He shrugs. “It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. Although I think we’re going to need to start paying you for promoting us. You’re better than a website.”

She grins wide before taking a bite of her burger. He thinks again about tests. He thinks about being actively in Rory’s world, about going to events with her, being Rory Gilmore’s date.

He likes the sound of it. Sitting outside at a Checker’s picnic table, dressed in formal wear, Jess thinks about where they started — not the beginning (the beginning was over and done with) but the beginning of this thing between them.

For the first time, he considers the idea that maybe this is more than just the start of something that would eventually end.

\--

She doesn’t see Jess again until his book release party a few weeks later. It’s a big event meant to make up for the ones they didn’t have for the other books. She makes a point to take a few days off, desperately wanting to help, to be a part of this — to be a bigger part of his life.

And, oh, she misses him — more and more with each separation that comes. She misses his hands and his smile, his voice.

When she first enters the store late morning they’re setting things up, Jess lifting his head and smiling at her. She feels something deep in her chest, heavy, and she pulls him into a different room, kisses him deeply, loving the feel of his mouth and his tongue and, oh, how she missed him.

Matt tries to tell her they don’t need help, but Jess and Chris are quick to put her to work, arranging things and answering the phone. They could afford to have people come in and do this for them but Jess is stubborn and something of his self-sufficiency has rubbed off on the other two.

Luke and Lorelai arrive not too long before the party is meant to begin, Luke glowing with pride as he always seems to these days. He helps with the food, and Lorelai informs them that Sookie offered to cater their next party.

Rory’s gotten used to working crowds and she does her best: sharing information about Truncheon, how well they’re doing, who to contact if they want to be published. She tells people about Jess, his success, his talent, going on and on about this wonderful man who brings so much to her life. It doesn’t occur to her how transparent she’s being until her mother pulls her aside, asking if there’s something Rory should tell her.

Rory doesn’t tell her yet, but she will soon. This is the longest she’s ever kept a secret from Lorelai Gilmore and although she knows her mother will be hurt she doesn’t regret it. This thing she and Jess have been doing has been uncomplicated, smooth, comfortable — all of that would have changed if she’d had to argue with Lorelai the entire time.

The party continues on and Rory finds that unlike the first events she’d attended she isn’t surrounded by strangers. She tries not to laugh at the surprise on Lorelai’s face as Rory introduces her to people, friends of Chris and Matt, a few she and Jess ran into at concerts and other bookstores.

“I didn’t know you came here so often,” Lorelai says, when it’s just her, Rory, and Chris after a group has left them.

“Oh, Rory isn’t here as much as we’d like but after — what, five years? — we’ve all fallen madly in love with her.” Chris laughs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Her mom continues to be visibly surprised as Chris tells tales of Rory’s visits. “Rory here has a way of getting Jess to leave his apartment.”

A group surrounds them and Rory is thrilled to see more people she recognizes. She’s thankful to see Jess, her eternal loner, surrounded by people who care about him and who want him to succeed.

At some point Matt comes over saying, “Hey, Ror, I think he’s hitting his limit.” And Rory nods, leaving as Luke joins the group, ranting about some modern art he doesn’t understand.

Jess is talking to a very enthusiastic older couple, hand tightening on his beer. He smiles gratefully at her when she joins them, wrapping his arm around her shoulder tighter than Chris had, introducing her proudly. And that’s where she stays for most of the night, stroking his back and rambling when she needs to.

“I hate when all the attention is on me. I can’t disappear for a smoke,” he murmurs to her at some point and she wonders how she ever thought he was sociable.

No, she knows how — he fakes it well. He fakes it better than he used to. Or, rather, his temper doesn’t flare like it used to. She knows he loves this place, that he knows being sociable comes with the job and he considers it worth it. It makes her think of the party she brought him to, how well he did, even after he left for air.

“I’m here,” she says, and if they'd been anywhere else she would have kissed him.

“Just as good as a cigarette,” he replies, stroking her arm.

She receives three job offers and one person claiming to have a contact at the Philadelphia Inquirer. “Truncheon keeps all your articles on hand and I’ve read them all. Please consider calling,” she hears, and she narrows her eyes at Jess as he looks on innocently.

To her surprise, she’s already considering it.

It’s late when the party finishes; late enough that her mother doesn’t have time to question her before she and Luke return to their hotel (although she does raise an eyebrow when Rory tells her she won’t be staying at the hotel with them.) Rory dreads the conversation that will ensue when they all meet up the next day.

She’s sitting in bed with her book while Jess potters around the apartment, getting ready to join her. There’s something very domestic about their situation, but it’s nothing new. The book was waiting for her when she arrived, as well as some jewelry and makeup she’s left behind. Her sleep shirt is also here; it seemed ridiculous to take it since she always ended up back here.

Really, she’s all over this apartment of his. How could she have missed that all these years?

Rory has been around the world. She’s met all different kinds of men, felt different kinds of attraction and infatuation. She’s been on many first dates, but rarely a second. She’s shared kisses but never gone back for more. And none of them ever saw her apartment.

Instead, she always finds herself back in Philadelphia, with Jess Mariano.

He’s wearing his boxers when he climbs in with her, taking the book she hands him.

The feeling in her chest grows heavier as she watches him read, pen in his hand. It took some time but she finally finds the source of the heaviness in her chest. Words. They’re words weighing her down.

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been pressing on her. Maybe they’ve been there since high school, waiting for it to be time. For years she hasn’t allowed herself to speak them, afraid of what would happen. She loves her freedom and has feared losing it, but Jess has shown her that she can have him and still be free. When she’s with Jess, she has a different kind of freedom.

“Jess?” She looks at him, reaching over and pushing his book down to the bed. He lets it go easily, giving her all his attention instead. “I love you.”

There’s freedom in saying the words. There’s no fear, no regret, because she knows with absolute certainly that he loves her just as much in return.

They reach for each other and he strips her of her nightshirt, drags his mouth down her body.

They make love and she doesn’t fear the intensity, she embraces it. She’s not the only one who’s been keeping their words chained up deep in their chest. He sets them free with whispers against her skin. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Only you.”

After, as she waits for sleep, her head resting against his chest, she thinks about tomorrow and the talk they’ll have.

Tomorrow, maybe they’ll decide nothing has to change — that they’ve been with each other for years now, that they’ve been in a relationship in every way but name. They know they can navigate it, they know their relationship can survive the distance.

Maybe she’ll decide that she’s done with her Washington job and that she wants to try something new, that she loves the life she’s made with him in Philadelphia. He’ll offer to find a new apartment, a bigger one, and she’ll smile and shake her head, because she loves the one they have.

Maybe he’ll offer to come with her to D.C.. Jess is confident he can find work anywhere and he’ll always have a part of Truncheon. They’ll find a new apartment and he’ll write, creating his own niche in the nation’s capital with her.

Maybe they’ll both change cities, go to NYC. He’ll open another branch of Truncheon while she goes to work for the New York Times like she always dreamed. He’ll show her his favorite places from his childhood and they’ll discover new ones together, making the city their own.

Maybe they’ll both take a long vacation and go on a road trip, better than the first one he took when he was young and angry and alone. They’ll drive from state to state, city to city, stay in hotels, see the sights and this time she’ll be the one writing her first novel.

Tomorrow, she’ll tell her mother and Luke. Tomorrow, they’ll no longer be each other’s secret. Tomorrow will be the start of something new.

For now, they sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic had a lot of plans and there was going to be legit conflict and then I decided, meh. I kind of liked the idea that things just kind of fall into place.
> 
> I was actually really nervous about their relationship status but then it occurred to me that I am 27 and have been in two relationships my entire life. Most of the people I know are in the same situation. So. 20s are young guys.


End file.
